Mirror of the Force
by Kay Morrison
Summary: Lya Cardan doesn't want to get married, especially when she's pretty sure that her fiance is behind her father's death. What she doesn't bargain on is how deep the conspiracy goes, what her choices could mean for the galaxy, or what she'll be asked to do to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone,

These are the first few chapters of a standalone Star Wars novel I'm working on that I'm not sure if I should progress with. Looking for feedback more than anything to determine if I should continue, or re-work and re-start.

I have about 10k written already, and the rest of the book plotted out, but I honestly haven't touched it in about a year. I really appreciate your help.

xx

\- K.A.M

 **Prologue (needs a date)**

Deep in the heart of the Temple, Artemes dreamed. Her dreams were always troubled, but such was the nature of the power that dwelled within her. It was difficult to know if she was seeing the past or the future, but the ferocity of the dreams was always the same. Outside, the winds of Korriban's wastes raged around the walls of the Temple stronghold, blasting the interlocking stones with an unrelenting barrage of sand and debris.

Artemes was left to her meditations while the activity of the Temple buzzed in the halls high above her chamber. The Sith Lords kept her comfortably housed, attended at all times by a hovering acolyte who recorded all of her dreams for study by the most powerful of the Sith Lords. It had been forty years since her last dream of prophecy, and the Sith Lords were growing impatient.

And so, Artemes dreamed, endlessly it seemed. The acolyte deepened her sleep with small doses of Paluruvu and meditated nearby, lending his own manipulation of the Force to her dreams. The Sith Lords had come to believe that with the assistance of the acolyte, Artemes' dreams would change, and her prophecies would begin to flow again. Prophecies that they could then hasten into reality.

The newest acolyte was a Quarren. One of the traveling Sith Lords had found him in an abandoned temple on Geddes. The resonance of his powers had called the Dark Lord to his hiding place, and though he could not speak, the Quarren's strength in the dark side thundered as loudly as the crashing waves of his watery homeworld. Artemes stirred in her dream, muttering something in a language the acolyte could not understand. He watched her carefully, recording her reactions to the dream and reached out with the Force to encourage the grip of the dream, strengthening its hold over her.

Every time Artemes dreamed, he recorded her mutterings as if it were the seeds of the next great prophecy. She had dreamt much of the past of late, and of her own barren homeworld. The events, tragedies and faces that she described were all familiar to him. As the acolyte pushed his dark energies towards her sleeping form, he envisioned that the dark side enveloped her like a black wave, lapping at her heels and then breaking over her still body. As if in response, Artemes' body shuddered and a gasp escaped her tattooed lips. Perhaps this time.

He concentrated harder and focused on Artemes' breathing, reaching out with the Force. Artemes writhed under the touch of his powers, her mutterings becoming small cries of fear and snatches of conversation. She was speaking Huttese; short staccato phrases that burst from her throat as the ancient one gasped for breath.

 _Growing in power_

 _Unseen for millennia_

 _True form doubles as the cries of one echoes_

 _Reflected through a mirror_

 _The walls of the great Temple will fall…_

The acolyte wrote furiously, it had been years since Artemes had spoken anything more than a name tugged from history while under the spell of her dreams. His hands shook as he wrote the final words… ' _The great Temple will fall.'_

A shuddering gasp made him look towards Artemes, she was no longer lying prone on her bed. The ancient woman floated upright above the pallet, her long white tresses fanned out around her ancient face and her robes swirled around her as if she was under water. Artemes' black tattooed lips moved soundlessly and her pale red eyes were fixed on the acolyte. Though her blind eyes saw nothing, he could feel the strength of the dark side coiled within her. Lightning crackled at the tips of Artemes' outstretched fingers as she levitated, borne aloft by the Force.

The acolyte's stylus flew across the page describing every detail of the scene before him. Blood red tears coursed down Artemes' tattooed cheeks as her breath rasped between her parted lips.

"Find the mirror. Find the mirror and break it. Break the mirror before it breaks us." 

_ **100 Years later** _

 **Chapter 1**

Lya Cardan hated her mother. If her father had been alive, he would never have permitted the arrangement of this ridiculous marriage. Zan Arroyo, her husband to be was a smug excuse for a rancor shit, and Lya hated him more than anyone else she had ever met. His relentless pursuit of her father's business and trade contacts were the cause of many late nights and heated arguments, and Lya had her suspicions that he was the one responsible what had transpired on the day of his death. Zan had been with her father as they had toured the family azurite mines on Bandomeer.

They were very close to finally agreeing on a new partnership contract promised to pull the Cardan family name out of relative obscurity and turn her father's dreams of expansion into a reality. He had often told Lya of his plans for expanding their freighting fleet to include luxury transport ships to cater to Senators and other Republic dignitaries on their important assignments throughout the systems. He was convinced that his alliance with the Zan and his powerful family would help make this possible.

The mine shaft collapse that had taken her father's life had also killed twenty miners and the overseer, a longtime employee and family friend that Lya considered a second father. Her charming fiancé, however, had escaped miraculously unharmed – with only a few minor injuries that kept him bedridden for several days. Days that he had used to convince Lya's mother to agree to the hasty engagement.

Lya was still in mourning when her mother had brought the news of her impending nuptials. Two weeks had passed since that day, and Lya hadn't spoken more than six words to her mother. She didn't bother to hide her feelings of rage and betrayal and she felt no remorse for the insults she hurled at the door of her room when her mother did try to approach. In return, Lya's mother had ordered the servants to keep her confined to her chambers.

Regardless of how Lya felt about the situation she suddenly found herself in, the preparations for the wedding swirled on around her. A servant mistakenly delivered a dress sewn with hundreds of silvery black Naboo night pearls to Lya's room. The next morning the dress was found in a heap outside her door, the precious pearls strewn over the floor. Lya had relished the destruction of the dress, but her mother had gotten the hint and no other items arrived at her chambers after that.

The wedding day drew closer and closer, and Lya bided her time, planning her escape. One of her mothers' servants, banished to laundry duties after burning her mistress' face with an accidental slip of the curling tongs, gladly accepted Lya's bribes and happily stole the items that she requested.

Lya's brother, Antar, fancied himself a bit of a rogue, and he dressed like a Corellian thug at every opportunity. Lya had already filled a bag with clothing he would never miss, but she was still waiting for the delivery of her final request. Her brother's most prized purchase was a dark brown rancor skin jacket. The hide was beautiful and criss-crossed with deep scars. The creature that had worn it in life had survived many battles, and Lya wanted it as a symbol of her own survival.

The day of the wedding dawned clear and cold, and Lya could see deeply purpled clouds gathering in the distance. If she had been excited about the wedding (or a complete idiot) she would have taken the impending rainstorm as a good omen for a happy marriage – but the smile that spread across her face was due to the fact that the entire household would be preoccupied with re-locating her luxurious garden wedding and transforming it into an indoor spectacle instead.

A soft knock at her door made Lya spin around. Two more quick let her know that it was the servant at her door with a delivery. Lya's heart leapt. Finally, the jacket. She pulled the door open quickly and let the woman in. The Mirialan handed Lya a heavy package with a conspiratorial wink.

"I had to peel it off of him, Lya. He was drinking emerald wine last night and fell asleep still wearing it." The woman's voice was hushed, but Lya saw laughter behind her eyes. "Your brother is a bit of a…" Lya rolled her eyes.

"Don't say it. If he ever finds out that someone called him a rogue he'll be even more insufferable than he is now." She shrugged into the heavy coat and buckled it snugly around her hips. The cut of the jacket hid her curves well and gave the illusion of broader shoulders beneath it. She was already dressed in a coarse shirt, and a Corellian blood stripe ran down the outside of her pant legs. The servant appraised her with a critical eye.

"You wear those clothes better than your brother." Lya smiled. The Mirialan lifted a finger to her tattooed chin, "But what about your hair? Lya's hand lifted slowly to the black braid that trailed over her shoulder.

"Cut it off. Cut it all off." The other woman smiled and held out her hand. Lya dropped credits into her upturned palm and sat on the edge of her bed. Scissors, produced from a secret pocket flashed in the early morning light and Lya's dark tresses fell to the floor around her. When the snip of the scissors finally ceased, Lya ran a hand over her scalp. Years of painstaking hair growth, gone in an instant. Her mother would be bereft. Lya smiled broadly; now she looked the part.

The red light of the sunrise was beginning to creep across her chamber floor; it was time to go. Lya slipped a few more credits into the other woman's hand and squeezed her fingers. The woman went to the chamber door and peered down the long, silent hallway. Seeing no one, she beckoned to Lya, whispering "Hurry" as the young woman hefted her pack.

Without a backward glance, Lya ran down the corridor, her footsteps muffled by the soft leather of her boots. She ran past the kitchens, stopping to retrieve a parcel that had been hidden there by her Mirialan accomplice. Lya was confident that she had paid the woman well enough to ensure her silence, and hoped that she would have the good sense to leave the household and seek new employment elsewhere before she was discovered. Lya picked up speed as she burst through a door that led to the gardens. She avoided the courtyard where the bridal pavilion had been erected and headed for the private docking bay.

Antar had been given a brand new Sienar Fleet Systems transport for his eighteenth birthday, and he loved this little ship more than anything. It was fast and sleek and she could see that he had outfitted it with some non-regulation weaponry. Lya had heard him bragging to his friends about how easy it was for him to visit the upscale Pleasure Houses on Rakata Prime and still be back in enough time that no one had noticed his absence. Unfortunately for Antar, talk like that left him wide open for the easy jokes about his sexual prowess; but to Lya, it told her that he had upgraded the hyperdrive and the navicomputer.

Perfect.

Lya punched the lock code into the keypad at the door of the ship. The code had been easy to guess, but that was mostly because her brother was a laser brained moron. She slid into the cockpit and entered one of her father's old shipping codes into the security system. The bay doors opened slowly, and Lya could see the first droplets of the approaching storm spattering against the durasteel floor of the docking bay. She entered her destination coordinates into the navicomputer and the ship roared to life. If nothing else, her brother could be counted on to keep his precious "Star Hammer" in hyperspace ready condition.

The thought of the tantrum Antar would throw when he realized that his beloved jacket was missing was delicious enough, but the added insult of taking his ship was hilarious, and derisive laughter bubbled up and filled the cockpit as she guided the ship through the bay doors and out into the wet, heavy sky.

Raindrops peppered the windscreen as she pushed for more speed. On impulse, she banked sharply and flew low over the family villa. With a whoop of victory, Lya punched the accelerator and the ship rocketed through the clouds.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone,

These are the first few chapters of a standalone Star Wars novel I'm working on that I'm not sure if I should progress with. Looking for feedback more than anything to determine if I should continue, or re-work and re-start.

I have about 10k written already, and the rest of the book plotted out, but I honestly haven't touched it in about a year. I really appreciate your help.

xx

\- K.A.M

 **Chapter 2**

The shipping code Lya had used would get her past the regulation blockade. As a shipping planet, Bandomeer's regulatory measures were on the extreme side, and unless you had the proper codes, a search of the ship was inevitable and Lya couldn't risk discovery. She streaked through the checkpoint ignoring any attempts the patrol made to contact her over the com. Lya flipped open the panel that hid the weapons system; plasma canons. She gritted her teeth, that little Bogdan rat. Plasma canons weren't going to help anyone.

Her luck was running out, the _Star Hammer_ 's sensors had picked up a pursuit ship and Lya hoped that she would hit hyperspace before she had to defend herself. These plasma canons weren't anything to trifle with and it was too early in the day to start stacking a body count. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on the controls. The hyperdrive light blinked red, she needed it to turn blue.

"Come on. Come on."

A voice crackled over the com, demanding her ident code. Lya swore, she didn't have time for this. The hyperdrive light blinked.

Red. Red. Red. Red.

Blue.

Lightning fast, Lya slammed her fist into the ignitor and pressed the accelerator flat. Her stomach lurched as the ship leapt into hyperspace. Breathing hard, her heart hammering in her ears, Lya relaxed back into her seat and watched the stars streak by. Beside her, the navicomputer hummed and beeped, plotting her course for Nar Shaddaa.

Lya pulled the package of food from under her seat and unwrapped the meal that the servant had packed for her and laughed as she realized that one of the containers held a slice of wedding cake; and not just any slice of wedding cake, it was a chunk of the top tier. Ignoring the other packets, she bit deeply into the soft green sponge cake , chewing loudly and sucking the sweet icing noisily from her fingers.

With her free hand, Lya tapped the info screens in front of her. Nar Shaddaa was her first stop; she had chosen it specifically to get Antar's ship wiped of identifiers and put under the name she had chosen for herself. Lya planned to pass herself off as a Corellian trader; she knew the business well enough and felt confident that she would be able to find some goods (cheaply) on the Smuggler's Moon and move them with no problem when she arrived on Coruscant within a few weeks.

With a sigh of annoyance, Lya realized that the info screens on her brother's ship were loaded with nothing but advertisements for Pazzak dens and holophotos of nude Twi'leki dancers. Lya shook her head. Typical. If she was going to find anything worth her time in this system, she would have to slice into the memory core to make it usable.

With a swift motion, she pried open the plasteel electronics panel under the screen with the knife the servant had wrapped into the food packet. Pulling her data pad from the pocket of the rancor skin jacket, Lya entered the codes required to begin the slice. Considering the age of the _Star Hammer_ , she knew that the slice wouldn't take long. Plus, it wasn't as though her brother had added anything to the main computer in the time he had owned it.

It had taken Lya almost two years of begging before her father had finally agreed to teach her how to slice. She had been going on shipping runs with him since her twelfth birthday, and the crew told her stories of her father's past as a slicer… he'd been good too. Good enough to have at least one bounty on his name. Her favorite story was about the time he had sliced into some of the most secure Republic archives for nothing more than the sheer sport of it. Lya thought the world of her father, and learning about his daredevil past made her love him that much more.

Her first data pad had been a secret fifteenth birthday present and he had started teaching Lya the basics of slicing he next day. Lya had warmed to slicing immediately; her data was fast and sure, and her eyes scanned code like a seasoned professional, always seeking exactly the right lines of data before she had to be told what to look for.

Before long, Lya's father was testing her, bringing her out to take the place of his usual slicer, a Corellian twice her age. The man didn't take kindly to being replaced by a sixteen year old girl, and his complaints had reached the ear of Lya's mother, who instantly forbade any offworld travel that wasn't approved by her, and shipping runs were out of the question. Lya had been devastated, but her father had continued her training in secret, giving her new and different challenges to master.

When her brother had unwrapped the holocard displaying the schematics of the _Star Hammer_ on his eighteenth birthday, Lya's mother hadn't understood her daughter's angry reaction, but Lya's father had understood it all too well. At twenty-one, Lya had not only been slicing with her father for six years, but had been flying with him too. Like her slicing lessons, Lya's mother had also disapproved of flying and was often heard lamenting to her friends that she had two sons.

"How am I ever going to find anyone to marry Lya? She swears like a deep space pilot, eats like a bantha and refuses to dress like a lady! She's doing this on purpose to spite me. She certainly didn't get this kind of behavior from _my_ side of the family." Lya smiled wryly as she thought of her mother's horrified tone, "Lya is an outlaw just like her father!" The complaints went on and on, and while Lya took them to heart more than she liked to admit, her father had just shrugged of his wife's judgements.

"You have a choice, Lya," he would say, "you can come with me, and continue to aggravate your mother, or, you can stay home and learn how to be a lady and aggravate me instead." Rin Cardan's face was stony and serious when he said things like this, which always sent Lya into peals of uncontrollable laughter. Lya knew that her father loved her boldness, and as he watched his wife coddle and spoil his only son into a willful self-centered brat, Lya became the center of his life, and he made no secret about the fact that he was grooming Lya to take over Cardan Shipping and Mining. At least, it wasn't a secret to his crews, and they treated Lya with a respect that she not only deserved, but that she had earned as well.

Memories like these made Lya heartsick. When her father had been pressured by her mother to name a successor and Zan Arroyo had appeared out of the woodwork, everything had changed.

Her data pad pinged softly and Lya punched in the passcodes required to wipe the underused mainframe and reset the downloads to include an updated spike from the Jedi archives – a complicated slice that she had just mastered the week before. With a small amount of pride, Lya watched the code flow by; hundreds of years of knowledge and exploration (not to mention some older archives that weren't open to most slicers) dumped into the ship's computer before her eyes. Lya watched the deep archives flow by; ancient knowledge streaked into the data banks and Lya allowed herself a smug smile as the code pulsated across the screen.

Turning to the navicomputer, she tapped the image of Nar Shaddaa. An artistic rendering of the Smuggler's Moon expanded to fill the screen. Planetary data flickered by, but she didn't care about the atmosphere, air quality, or dominant flora and fauna. Her fingers deftly flicked through useless information about surface temperatures and current noxious gas levels. A map of the space station was what she needed.

Lya had a docking bay in mind already; Bolabo Grom was the best in the somewhat shady business he operated, and he was one of the only criminals she was willing to trust… Lya had heard her father mention the Sullustan's name once or twice as the only mechanic he trusted, and if her father trusted him, she would too. Grom's docking bay was located on the bad side of the space station – if any one place could be labeled better or worse than the rest – and it would take some fancy flying to get to it, but she was confident enough in her flying ability, and in her story that it kept the nervousness away.

Lya had planned out her arrival in Nar Shaddaa like a luxury vacation. She would arrive, get her ship seen to, find out how much time Grom needed to earn his credits for the ownership code wipe and the hull and weapons adjustments she would require. Then she would use that time to acquire the goods she planned to sell. She might even try her hand at Pazaak. Why not? It couldn't hurt, and it wasn't like she didn't have the credits to spare.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lya saw the data pad flash again; the download was complete. Scanning the spaceport schematic one last time, Lya committed the route she would have to take from Grom's docking bay to memory. Her plan was solid, and she also didn't plan on doing anything stupid during her time in the space port, which automatically made her more relaxed. She looked at the time on her data pad – if she had stayed on Bandomeer, she would be married to that slime-snake Zan Arroyo. Lya shuddered inwardly as she imaged the sneering look of triumph on his face as he pushed her towards the bridal bed. The idea of being naked with that pile of Hutt waste turned her stomach and she immediately regretted the piece of cake she had eaten so spitefully.

Deep down, Lya knew that her father would have approved of this act of rebellion, and as she leaned back in her chair once more, that was the thought that she held in her mind as the ship (hew ship) sped the final hours towards Nar Shaddaa. Lya slept dreamlessly, her mind full of nothing but the rushing stars.

Lya woke with a start, the frenzied beeping of the navicomputer echoing in her ears; her teeth felt like they were covered in potolli fur and she knuckled the remnants of her sleep roughly from her eyes. Lya pulled herself to her feet, groaning as her shoulder complained at being cramped by her sleeping position. She glanced at the navicomputer, she had just under an hour before the ship would drop out of hyperspace – enough time to step into the Refresher. She might be masquerading as a man, but that was no need to smell like one.

As she had expected, Antar had spent all of his allowance credits on fixing up the 'essential' parts of the _Star Hammer_ and ignoring the little things… like the Refresher. No wonder he had no **real** romantic prospects. No one wanted to marry a man who smelled like the beast who's skin he wore as a jacket. Lya made a face as she tried to imagine what a bull rancor smelled like in the flesh. Despite being in disrepair, the Refresher did its job well enough and Lya felt more like herself again… well, more like Athin Fenn anyway. She looked in the mirror, taking a hard look at her new self in the mirror; she would have to remember to react to that name.

Athin Fenn was a young but confident Corellian trader, he had done business all over this sector and counted Rin Cardan as one of his best trading contacts – dropping that name around Nar Shaddaa was bound to turn some heads, hopefully it would be the heads of those that Lya had planned to trade with. Years of being dragged around the sector by her father had given Lya a confidence that any woman (and most men) wouldn't have had at this age.

The navicomputer bleated a warning; the ship was about to drop out of hyperspace. The controls vibrated in her hands, and Lya gripped them tightly, absorbing the shock with her body. Bolabo Grom's repair bay coordinates were entered and she was prepared to cross the first checkpoint. Nar Shaddaa was lenient about the comings and goings of its spaceport, and a casual shipping code granted her passage. The code was over eight years old and belonged to a freighter that had been taken down by Durosian gunships after a 'misunderstanding' in trade negotiations. Lya guided the _Star Hammer_ easily through the checkpoint and began to navigate the busy spaceport lanes. Freighters, cruisers, jump ships and heaps of scrap that lurched through space filled her view.

Lya pushed the accelerator forward and urged the ship faster dodging a huge galley at the last minute and hurtling past a cruiser that was reversing its thrusters to land on a docking pad just below. Lya felt the downward push of the thrusters hit the ship and with a curse she pushed it forward again, tilting the ship sideways to slide into a narrow corridor. Sparks flew off the hull as she maneuvered the craft through the opening. Metal screamed against metal and Lya felt the ship lurch as one of her wings sheared off a protruding dish as she raced through the passage. Ly groaned as she relized that the corridor narrowed ahead; she needed more speed.

Flipping open a panel with a flaming match painted on it, Lya snapped a green switch and braced herself for the propulsion blast she knew was coming. A burst of green fired out of the ship's boosters. Illegal, but effective. Lya gritted her teeth as the ship squealed through the opening and out into the public lanes once more. Grom's docking bay loomed to her left and she banked sharply to bring the ship around. The landing gear snapped out and she maneuvered the ship to perch like a predatory creature on the docking pad. Lya sucked in a deep breath; she'd made it. Right on schedule too.

Now, it was time to negotiate. Lya ran her fingers through her close cropped hair to make it wild and unkempt, and shrugged into the rancor skin jacket. She could see Bolabo Grom coming towards her ship with an astromech following close behind. According to her father, the Sullustan was an experienced refurbisher, and he would have no problem doing the adjustments to the ship that Lya required. She emerged from the cockpit and jumped down onto the durasteel platform, landing lightly on the balls of her feet.

Lya raised a hand to the Sullustan in greeting and shouldered her pack. She slipped her datapad into a belt at the small of her back, and flipped the rancor skin jacket down to cover it. Lya straightened her shoulders and prepared to try on her new persona.

"Greetings, Bolabo Grom, I got your name and coordinates from Rin Cardan. He said you were the best junker on Nar Shaddaa." She knew that her voice was too loud, and she watched the Sullustan's eyes carefully, but he just blinked his deep black eyes at her. Lya pushed ahead. "I picked up this dolly of a cruiser in a Pazzak game and was hoping you could do some light mods before I head offworld. Nothing major, but you know how it is. I can't have the former owner trying to win it back in something less honest than a card game, right?" She winked at the Sullustan and tried to give her head what she hoped was a confident tilt.

Bolabo Grom stopped in front of her, the astromech trilled softly; Lya didn't like the tone of that whistle, but she pretended not to notice.

"Well? Do you have room for my ship? I have goods to buy and arrangements to make. Either you can help me and I can pay you, or I can take my credits elsewhere." Lya tried to keep the frustration from her voice, but she could feel tension creeping into her words. The Sullustan appeared unphased by her tone.

"What modifications were you looking for? I might have some space in the hangar for you."

Lya breathed a sigh of relief. She gestured at the ship, "I need a few additions to the titanium layers, here and here." She gestured at the panels her brother had neglected when he did his own upgrades, they left the entire cockpit unprotected. Lazy quednack. "Can you scrape off that Twi'lek on the side too? I feel like she's cramping my chances with the ladies." She gave the Sullustan another wink, and was rewarded with a chuckle.

"What about the other mods?" Lya nodded.

"I need the ownership codes wiped and replaced with these." She handed him a data card loaded with her alias and new information. "It should all be there." Bolabo Grom tapped the hull.

"What about the astromech?" Lya blinked at him.

"Astromech?" Grom slammed his fist into the side of the ship and a panel slid open to reveal a mini-astromech. The cylindrical droid hummed to life, but instead of rolling forward, it fired a thruster of shimmering blue fire that allowed it to hover beside the ship.

"It's an Ell-Six unit. One of the smaller models that comes as an upgrade with this class of starship. Doesn't look like it's ever been used. Want me to wipe it and re-set it for you?" Grom blinked his oily black eyes, "no charge." Lya shook her head, that little thing might come in handy.

"I'll take the astromech, how long will this take?"

Grom shrugged, "Come back in three hours, we'll see how far I've gotten. I might be done, it depends on how deep those codes are." Lya nodded, that should be all the time she would need to acquire her trade goods. She had decided on her way to Nar Shaddaa that she would acquire some unique stim pack contents from Oncar, an Ithorian that maintained a rich garden from which he rendered antidotes and remedies. She would be able to create alternative 'stim cocktails' for sale to high end patrons on Coruscant, or even Naboo if push came to shove.

Lya's father had bought similar stim packs from the Ithorian in the past and they were easy to transport and sell; they were the perfect way to get herself established in trading circles. Hitching her pack higher on her shoulder, Lya strode across the platform with confident steps and gestured to the astromech, which buzzed along behind her.

Athin Fenn was in business.


End file.
